Part 31 (1/2)

he continued. ”I couldn't go it. . . And yet--there may be something in it. It's sacrifice here, Edith. War is sacrifice. Sacrifice for other people. It's not all on the surface. There's something deeper than we know.”

”'He that loseth his life shall find it,'” I quoted.

He did not answer, but I could see his lips smiling again. His breath was more labored. A few drops of rain fell, and some of them spattered on his face.

Presently he chuckled. It was an eerie sensation, out on that broad plain of death, alone by the side of this man who was already far into the shadow,--to hear him chuckle.

”That splash of water--you remember--it made me think of the time we pulled the old car into the stream, and the harness broke, or something, and I had to carry you. You remember that, Reenie?” I could only say ”Yes,” and press his hand. His mind was back on the old, old trails.

He became suddenly sober. ”And when Brownie was killed,” he went on, ”I said it was the innocent thing that got caught. Perhaps I was right. But perhaps it's best to get caught. Not for the getting caught, but for the--the compensations. It's the innocent men that are getting killed. And perhaps it's best. Perhaps there are compensations worth while.”

His voice was weaker, and I had to lean close to catch his words.

”I'm going--out,” he said. ”Kiss me, Reenie.”

And then I kissed him--for you.

Suddenly he sat up.

”The mountains!” he exclaimed, and his voice was a-thrill with the pride of his old hills. ”See, the moonlight--on the mountains!”

Then his strength, which seemed to have gathered itself for this one last vision of the place of his boyhood, gave way, and he fell back.

And he did not speak any more.